


_______ _______ Sat On A Wall

by Starr_Reborn



Series: For the sake of someone replaced [1]
Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Isabella 'Call me Marie' Swan, Reincarnation, Silly, jacob black is a good friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23110000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starr_Reborn/pseuds/Starr_Reborn
Summary: Isabella Marie Swan is a quiet, serious child that grows into a quiet, serious adult. She finds a boy, she likes him she marries him and following birth, death, and vampirism, she finds a place she fits-In one worldAnd in another, Isabella Marie Swan falls and hits her head - ever the clumsy girl - and someone else awakens.
Series: For the sake of someone replaced [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003530
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	1. ______ ______ Had A Great Fall

It's actually a little insulting.

 **Local Woman Dies Over Pizza** , what a headline that'd make. How thrilling, how fantastic. And she'd eaten pretty healthy in her life! Her mother was a health nut so she honestly hadn't had much choice in the matter but dying over pizza, frozen pizza - the _wrong_ frozen pizza for that matter.

Cathleen Hudson Little would not be amused by this news. Her precious youngest dying over Great Value pizza with Alfredo sauce on it. That's the worst part, the part she can't get over from down here on the cool, cool pavement.

That jerk had taken the time to drop her tampons from the plastic bag but still walked away with the 'za. He'd literally killed her for it! 

- _and_ her car, but very specifically! The! Pizza! 

Such shit. She was supposed to get her tax return soon, too. She'd been eyeing a Switch, she needed a new headset, her car needed new tires... Guess it wasn't really her car anymore. Dead people don't own things, and this was dying wasn't it?

Felt like dying. She'd cracked her head on the way down, and honestly that's her fault. Just had to be a Tough Guy™ when approached by a clearly aggressive person, had to fight had to resist couldn't just hand her car keys over and plead, _"Oh please don't kill me mister I've got a cat at home his name is Sphinx but it's short for Sphincter 'cause he's a raging asshole!"_ Or anything derivative of that.

No, she had to say _"Fuck you, guy!"_ and try to punch him.

Fat lot of good that'd done. 

_Damn. Damn damn damn._

Maybe he'd only meant to shoot her once? _Maybe_ he hadn't meant to shoot her at all...

_But then why take the pizza?_

This means Lily will have to ask someone else to watch her house and cats next week.

Oh, and Katie! Poor Katie might never get over this. That's, that's really, that sucks.

And she, she won't get to finish rereading Twilight with Sarah. They'd just bonded over discovering Muse through the Twilight series, and over how mopey and depressing and mentally unstable they found the main character to be.

Literally last night.

She'd just picked up the book again this morning, hadn't even started it.

Kind of, honestly, dumb last regrets.

She should go back to regretting that train wreck of a pizza. She'd had food at home. 

Home. She wants to go home. One last time. Just to lay in her bed, beneath the fan, though this pavement is pleasantly chill against her face. 

She hadn't called her mother in two weeks. She was going to visit her brother on Friday. She was supposed to be a bridesmaid in a wedding in two months. 

And ok, that last one kinda sucked because weddings usually sucked but.

But now she doesn't get to, not a matter of if she wants to or not. 

She'd started getting her life together! She was finishing college and starting a new job and going back to the gym! Why in the _Fuck_ did she stop for pizza!? 

So lame.

So _cold_... And tired. Bone tired. _Dead_ tired, haha, Oh, oooough, laughing hurts... She can't even... even see the stars from this, this Wal-Mart parking lot. But that could be her vision fuzzing out... th-the glasses that fell from her face...

Over pizza and a mother... fucking '93 Mitsubishi Galant.

...

**...**

_...ok, um, OW._

That hurts so much it's hard to breathe. Or, wait, no, she just got shot so that could be it but damn her head is _ringing_. It's, very bright, it's, what is. Where-

"-e ok!" Mmm what? Some...one? leaning over her, blocking the Too-Bright and that's all well and good but,

"Who...?" That. Sounded weird. _What's going on?_

"Is-Isabu-Bella! Y-you're ok! Thank god I, I thought yu-you were ru-ru-really h-hurt!" ...uh huh. 

There's a boy crouched over her, weeping his eyes out. Like, snotty too, and Eww, but also, _aww_ poor thing. He probably thought she was dead. She _thought_ she was dead. But honestly, and with effort,

"Do I," - _ok that's not her voice_ \- "know you?" - _that is NOT her voice whatintheFUCK_ \- "Why...?" does she _sound_ like this?! 

And _why_ doesn't her body hurt the way it should and _who_ is this small child and _where the Fuck is she?_

This isn't a hospital, or a parking lot, or, or any place she's been to. A stranger's yard- did that jerk come back and drag her to his home? Is this his child?

"Who-!" And he fed her helium? Her voice had _never_ sounded this high pitched. "Who are you." Hard to make demands when she's still breathless and squeaky but she'll try her best damnit! 

And the boy, all red-faced and... just covered in his own tears 'n snot, ugh, like use ya arm boy - he gathers himself enough to gawk and sniffle and ask,

"W-what?"

" _Who_ are _you?_ " She's trying not to be rude here, ideally she can get this kid on her side and he'll help her escape! From... wherever this is! But, well, see then he mutters, 

"Uh-oh." And why _uh-oh_? That didn't, she doesn't feel good about _uh-oh_. She feels much worse when he jumps up, spins on his heel and starts sprinting for a squat little home shrieking for, "RAAAAAACHEL, REBECCAAAAAA!" 

How many people did this psycho have!?

Nope, nuh-uh, 

"Fuck this I'm _so_ done." And holy Hell, sitting up makes the world jump and spin and lurch but, but she's been drunk before and she's gotta run and, ooh jeez, Oh god, ok. That is, **_hrruk_** , ok that's a little, standing is, is not fun everything is just _ohgodshe'sgonnaHurl_ -

"Jesus, Jacob! What'd you do to her?" Ugh, oh good Another child- _what did she eat and why is it bright orange?_

"Nothin'!" Jesus Jacob stomps his foot while the brainwashed elder child approaches and she tries to crawl away. Away from the chunks and the children but it's. _Difficult_. "She fell."

"From _Where?!_ " Ough the yelling, make it stoooop.

"The tree!"

"Jesus, Jacob. Bella, Bella honey?" Who, who made this. "Bella?" This fuckin' ground. " _Bella!_ " Who in the cold ninth circle of Hell decided to make this ground move like angry seawater? " _Jesus_ Jacob- Go inside and tell Rebecca to get off the damn phone. And call 911!"

She should just- yeah that's nice, just lay it back down in the grass. Before she gets sick again. Ugh this girl needs to leave her alone to limply pull herself towards the tree line already.

"What'd I say dingus? Go!"

"But she's bleed-"

"REBECCA, PHONE. 911, **_NOW!_** " This is Hell. She really did die and this is Greek torture Hell. The most wicked headache of her life and two children screaming over her. She can't honestly say she doesn't deserve it but,

" _Staaaaap yelliiiinng._ " and ugh, she can taste the nastiness when she breathes. 

"Bella, you're gonna be ok," Mmm who?

"M'ooo?" 

"Uhh, you, I, _Jesus Jacob hurry it up_ ," maybe she's not supposed to hear the last part but - uh. The girl, um. Rrrr. Rrrrrra. Rrrrrrrray. Rachel Ray! - Rachel isn't exactly hiding her anxiety, hovering around waiting for that psycho to come back and finish the job. "Bella, please be still."

"Mm'who ssthat?" Those trees are far away... And dancing. 

"Bella?" 

"Who's Bella?" Fuck it, this crawling is making her. **_Hrk_** , nope, nuh-uh no more, more heaving. Unh-uh, not today. "Where... _are_ we?" And the girl - Rachel, it's Rachel, that child is Rachel, and the one that looks just like her running out of the house with Jesus Jacob is probably Rebecca - stares at her with some incredulity.

Jesus Jacob makes it back to Rachel's side with Probably Rebecca and when Probably Rebecca sees her she eeeks out an,

"Oh _Fuck!_ " Which makes Rachel slap at Probably Rebecca's arm hissing,

"Shut up! _Stupid_ might hear you." And naturally Jesus Jacob has to interject, _wail_ ,

"I'm not stu-u-uuupihihihiiiiid!" while absolutely losing the battle against more tears. 

And she's laying on the ground, still dying, or dead, just wondering if demons exist because children exist or if those two are just coincidently in the world at the same time. _A likely story._ And all this, pain and struggle and insufferable children- all of it just. _Just_

**_Over Pizza._ **

She's never eating pizza again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read a fanfic once like this. I went searching for it and it could not be found, what's a casual writer to do in such a situation?
> 
> Same thing as always: start something we'll all dream of being finished


	2. And All The King's Horses

There is roughly eight minutes between her asking after this "Bella" and the arrival of the EMTs.

Those eight minutes go a little something like:

"Great, you made him cry." " _I_ made him cry!?" "Duh! It's bad enough _she's_ got brain damage." "What do you mean she's got brain damage?" "Look at her!" "I did! And I said 'Oh fuck!' and you- _Ow!_ Stop hitting me, Rachel!!" "Well if you wouldn't -..."

\- and while _that_ happens, Jesus Jacob _weeps_ on the ground. She can't really blame him when, in between awful sobs, he manages to stutter and hiccup along about not wanting her to die. 

All very dramatic, not that she disapproves. She'd been _this close_ to being a theater kid in her youth. Still, it's all very unnecessary and, honestly, annoying. Grating on her nerves and pounding through her temples and when she reaches to massage the pain away she.

Well she should've noticed already right? With everything else that's been going on she should've-

\- but she hadn't. Hadn't bothered to take stock of her body. All her limbs responded, none of them really hurt and so she'd not really looked at them. Looked at her hands, arms legs - everything, anything below her neck. But she does now, take stock and gaze upon her limbs and.

Yeah, she feels comfortable calling the thing that wells up in her _Dread_. Because she could excuse a lot, as much as she can for her own health, but _this_ , this is not her body.

Where are the scars on her knees? The two burns on her left calf? The indentation on her right shin? Where are they and why are her fingers so long and slender? Her hands had been wide, callused worker's hands and these, these are sissy artist hands.

Not that art is for sissies, just that these hands are.

This body is wrong and it makes Panic and Dread crawl up her throat and she truly believes she'll be sick with them. Well, not with them really. More with the question those two things drag up from the deep depths of somewhere dark and paranoid - that thing she used to take sedatives to quiet wonders _And what if She is this Bella?_

And very quickly but not all at once or in quite this order - a gaggle of adults arrive on the scene and her world is already tilting and warping in front of her but their cacophony doesn't help. Questions are posed and answers are demanded and some of them at her but she's awfully confused. Someone besides Jesus Jacob is crying, a woman that keeps hovering around and over her. 

And then the EMTs arrive to shuffle her off to a hospital.

* * *

She can't shake the Dread or the feeling like she's missing something. Everything and nothing is upsetting her, upsetting some balance within her. It takes her a very long time to place the feeling and while she stews over it a doctor informs that same weeping woman and a strong-jawed man about concussions and memory loss.

Something like, _Generally speaking, the memory loss is based around event of trauma but in certain cases..._ and she sorta zones out around there. Her nails aren't square anymore. And her left palm doesn't have a freckle in the middle. Surgery can't get rid of those. And this still feels very dreamy.

Like, yes she'd felt pain and all the comings and goings of getting ill, but her dreams have always been disturbingly vivid. It's not an excuse and if it was its a bad one, ineffective at chasing away that little thrill in her veins from a heart beating just too fast.

"...Bella?" And that _is_ supposed to be her. From the looks on their faces they'd been calling 'her name' for what was absolutely too long. And she must learn to answer to that until she wakes up but,

"May I use the restroom? A-alone?" And they _let_ her. She's got a concussion, what if she fell in here or something? They could've at least sent the Weepy Woman. Dreams don't have to make sense though, right? This one doesn't, this one-

She traps a shriek behind her teeth but slaps her hands over her mouth anyway to muffle it and the Panic that'd eased comes rushing back. This must be what a collapsing star feels like, heat and pressure in impossible degrees and blackness swirling in and

When she heaves and retches nothing comes of it. No stranger's lunch, just the sweat and muscles all tensing with everything they've got. 

"What," more a whimper than a whisper but quiet all the same. "What, what fucking _Elfin child-!_ " This wasn't, this _ISN'T HER._

Not her face not her voice not her body. She was a little teapot, short and stout! Broad and strong, not, not-

It's wrong this is all wrong and she pinches her arm until blood breaks the surface and _she doesn't wake up._

She begins hyperventilating.

It feels like a very fair reaction, and hey! She hadn't had a panic attack in years and this is far from a debilitating one. She's not driving down a highway so that's already a plus. She's still scarily aware of herself and her surroundings. And honestly she pretty quickly just devolves into tears.

Beautiful fairy children are allowed to cry - and yes she is three years shy of thirty, but only she knows that and crying is healthy! - and it does release some stress from dying? Slipping into a coma?

It just feels nice to cry it out. Crying used to be her favorite stress reliever, back in her younger years anyway.

Arguably, she'd liked that dumb Twilight series _because_ the main character was a mopey shit head, she'd been one as well. 

She's not really sure what she is now, besides long-limbed and slender and pretty in an alien way. All big dewy eyes and rosy cheeks and delicate features. Look at that nose! Look at that _fucking_ button nose. 

She wants to punch the mirror. She presses her knuckles, her _uncallused_ knuckles, against the mirror and just. Just leaves them there and grits her teeth and tries to snarl at the face in the mirror.

And it makes this kittenish expression back at her and she is filled with hate.

_So fucking uncool._

There's knocking on the bathroom door and she startles away from the little girl that can't nearly scowl as well as she used to. They call for, 

" _Bella?_ "

And she hesitates and some greater feeling in her chest swells and she calls back,

"Yes?" It feels wrong and it must be wrong.

" _Are you alright?_ "

It is wrong, that feeling sweeping through her, it's that everything is wrong and she's kind-of beginning to realize why, regardless,

"Yes." and she leaves the bathroom and looks at the strangers that must know her. She hesitates but ventures, "Who are you? What's going on?"


	3. And All The King's Men

Her new name is: 

Isabella

Marie

 _Swan_.

And she. Hates. _Everything_. Isabella is pretty enough, Marie is almost too much, SWAN!? In what fucking WORLD-

She asks her, ah, ' _parents_ ', to call her Marie. She can't stand most of the name but Marie feels, classy? Something. Better than Isabella and she's mostly bitter that not a single part of this new name is like the old. She's bitter in general, especially concerning this new body.

It's allergic to pork and turkey.

_She can't enjoy bacon anymore._

It feels like, if God existed, they're a fucking asshole and their sense of humor is dogshit and fuck 'em especially. NO BACON. This prissy princess fairy body can't sustain itself regularly, No, it had to, to fucking have allergies! Damnit! Damnit fuck fuck fuck-

SHE CAN'T EVEN CURSE OUT LOUD ANYMORE!

SHE'S _NINE!_

It's not even in the same decade, she just.

Her parents are Renee and Charlie. They have a weird relationship. They're not really married anymore but they're definitely still screwing. This was supposed to be a summer visit to her father but the ' _Traumatic Event_ ' kept them longer.

Not that she knows, but she's an adult woman and her mother is _slightly_ manipulative. Like, she's got Charlie wrapped around her finger and she loves it and she uses it to her advantage. And Charlie strong-jaw Swan is oblivious to it and it's a little gross to notice.

She's not really certain if Renee is doing it on purpose or not, the woman is a bit of a space cadet. 

Her _parents_ don't let her leave the house, which is, honestly, extremely similar to the house she used to live in with her sister. So, eight million cons and one pro!

Another pro, since she's stuck here, she gets visitors! Jesus Jacob and his sisters. Rachel and Rebecca bicker over her and she's almost entirely certain it's how they express love and worry. Or they're twelve year old girls that really have no interest hanging out with her invalid ass.

She isn't offended and she lets them know they can skip out if they want to- they take that lifeline damn quick.

Jacob on the other hand brings Transformer toys and she's _So_ down to play. He lets her play with, and keep, Snarl. It's a kickass wolf and she loves it. He uses a pterodactyl called Lazorface or something, he's aight, not quite as cool as Snarl.

He'd said,

"Snarl is my favorite cuz he's the coolest, so, um, if you keep him, he'll give you wolf strength!" She wouldn't have said no to begin with, but after that precious spiel she just can't!

Anyway, Lazorhead is a pirate - "A butt pirate?" and she swears she didn't mean to say that but Jacob only giggles and tells her, "Nooo, a space pirate!... What's a butt pirate?" "Oh, uhh, I'll tell you later... " - so usually their games involve fighting the two teddy bears she has to rob them of their treasures.

It's not terrible.

It's not great.

She still hasn't woken up.

* * *

After an amount of time, weeks that close in on a month, Renee decides she's had enough of stringing Charlie along and realizes that this whole ' _temporary memory loss_ ' thing is a lot less temporary than they'd originally thought.

She also attempts to decide that,

"Bella-"

" _Marie._ " And Renee winces and pauses and corrects,

"Marie, we're going home and. And we're gonna fix you there ok? We can-"

"Don't want to."

"-try, looking at, uhh. Excuse me?"

"I like it here."

"You... Like it here? _Here?_ In Forks?" 

"Yes." She used to be indecisive, but if this isn't just a dream she wants to be new. This body is new this brain is new, if a little damaged, and she just. Well she knows what she wants and she knows she isn't about to uproot what little safety and sanity she's found here.

Also, fuck Arizona. She'd had a friend move there, and knew people there that were miserable. Not because it was Arizona but still. Fuck Arizona especially.

So Renee stays for another week and fights with, err, honestly she fights _at_ Charlie in that time. Because he's a quiet, passive man that only wants happiness for his ex-wife and their child.

Ah, well, her. 

She eavesdrops on every single conversation they shoo her away from. Sometimes they'll come to fetch her and she gets caught but she persists and every time they ask she reaffirms that she wants to stay here.

And again, she's not certain if Renee does it on purpose but she leads with some shtick about mothers and daughters and taking care of each other. It's an attempt at a guilt trip and she's far too old for that shit. But, she understands the need for delicacy and puts it gently,

"I love you-" _she almost says Renee_ "-Mom, but I want to be here with-" _she almost says Charlie_ "-Dad." And she doesn't really explain herself much more than that. 

These parents are much more amicable than hers had been. When she asserts herself there's some disappointment from Renee but she ultimately concedes, and when Renee concedes Charlie isn't a smug bastard about it. Not quite a forever fighting couple, even if they do have a slightly weird romance.

And so anther half a week passes in a flurry and bags big enough to hide at least three Elfin child bodies appear next to the front door and stay there. There's a bunch of dramatics like this is the last time Renee will see her and Charlie and they're very theatrical twenty-somethings, aren't they?

Babies having babies.

And so, on a Thursday morning, ass crack early - and this body just wakes up at that time like that's a sane thing - Renee comes and kisses and hugs her goodbye and she and Charlie step out the door so the kind man can drive her to the airport.

"I bet she'll blow him on the way." Sounds wrong coming from her precious wind-chime voice. She'll get used to it. Eventually. Until then she's got a full day ahead of her, "Alright, gotta get out all my fucks."


	4. Couldn't Put ______ Together Again

She's not used to her own reflection yet and it's been two months. She _is_ answering to Marie properly, though. Small victories.

Charlie and Renee call and talk every two days. About her. Her health and memories coming back. Or not coming back, really. They think they're slick about it but she's not an idiot. Brain damaged, maybe, _probably_ , but not an idiot. She's even been whining at Charlie to let her go to the library and check out a boatload of books - so when she slips up and doesn't realize or think twice of it, it could maybe be excused?

She's making plans already: she's going to graduate as early as possible, work an entire fuck-ton for like two years, invest invest in-fucking-vest in corporations - Nintendo and Disney, if she can - get some degree at some point from some variety of college, get rich, get a job at a library, retire to a sleepy mountain town.

And change her name, maybe. At least the Isabella part.

And get like, two cats. And a few dogs. A couple acres of land, maybe build some sort of animal rehabilitation and relief center.

When did pot start getting legalized? _Too many years from now to start planning a whole heap_. She'd wait ten years and retouch on that one.

And she was going to get in, and stay in, shape. Fuck pizza, she's never touching that shit again. And frozen foods! She's going to grow her own herbs and make bread and, and, and learn how to can foods! 

She's going to be better and she's going to stick to it!

Definitely!

_Hopefully!_

Charlie let's her go outside again with a,

"Don't go climbing trees." And he says it like he's kinda joking, even throws in a little wink and awkward laugh, but she can tell he's actually serious as fuck. Which is fair and she's super down. 

She meets some kids in the area.

Not ' _in the neighborhood_ ', because honestly the houses aren't close or dense enough to be even begin resembling a suburb, but some blocks over, down anther long stretch of street and green scenery. In her old life, she'd grown up by a park but this kind of foliage is... It's just unreal.

Super pretty, she kinda loves it. Even if she had to go into a coma for it. That's her new theory.

Anyway, she meets two girls ' _her age_ ' and attempts to befriend them. She's pretty sure they think she's super weird, and she is, but they're nice enough to her and she's nice enough back. Jacob still visits. Sometimes they visit him and his family.

Except whenever they visit the Black residence Rachel and Rebecca HAVE to watch them.

She's finally learned how to braid hair and she's getting pretty damn good at nail painting. Also she's getting a much more practiced hand at applying makeup, both to her own face and to others.

If they know how to sew she's going to find that out too.

She wants to learn EVERYTHING she can with a fresh brain. She's even going to skip drugs this time around! Like, the bad ones.

So pot is definitely on the menu, BUT, she's going to wait until college or even afterwards this time around. She really wants to do things right. Temporary, dream, second chance - no matter what this is, she can't do nothing and she won't waste it.

The Cathleen Little in her won't allow it, recoils at the thought.

At this point she can't do much except fill her time and prepare for the future. Her most immediate concern is to be patient for South Park.

It is August 5, 1997. Her birthday is in a month, school will start before then, and South Park starts even before then.

Things are ok. 

She's going to make things ok.


End file.
